


Another World

by peachykeenjellybean



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Artist Rey (Star Wars), Artists, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Making Out, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:07:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23812795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachykeenjellybean/pseuds/peachykeenjellybean
Summary: Rey is an abstract artist and Ben doesn't get why the painting is going for as much as it is and says it to Rey without realizing she's the artist. Rey plays along with him. How does it end?
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	Another World

Rey only attended these events for the free champagne. She would sip flute after flute until she could feel the bubbles settle into a warmth on her cheeks and her head felt like it was floating above the crowd. She was on her third glass when she noticed someone standing by her painting. Someone eyeing her painting meant a buyer and a buyer meant she could pay next month's rent.

She watched him from the other side of the room. He was so tall and his back was so broad from here she could tell that his suit jacket was straining against him slightly. His hair was her favorite part. The rest of him looked professional in a suit but his hair was so unprofessional. It sat almost on his shoulders in dark waves. Like he just ran his fingers through it in the mirror in the morning. He stood with his back to her, facing the painting, his head cocked to the side. She assumed his eyes would be narrowed as he stared at the piece.

She noticed his hands were empty. One crossed over his chest and tucked under his arm while the other dangled there and kept clenching and unclenching itself like a calming technique. Rey grabbed two more glasses of champagne after finishing her glass and walked over to him.

He didn’t notice her standing next to him until she cleared her throat softy but loud enough for him to hear over the elevator music that was playing in the background in the gallery. When he looked over, Rey’s breath hitched in her throat and she let out a little hiccup but tried to hold it in not to embarrass herself. His eyes were the first thing she noticed first. They’re the color of bright new copper. And under the gallery lights she could see flecks of gold scattered throughout his iris’.

“I noticed you standing here empty handed,” She said as she gestured one of of the glasses to him. He accepted it from her with a little nod and something like a smile starting to form on his lips.

“Thank you, I just got here so I didn’t have a minute to grab a drink yet.” He was even more beautiful up close, Rey thought. When he spoke, she looked at his lips and wondered what it would be like to kiss them. To feel them against hers.

“I’m Rey, by the way,” she hated when she said that because it rhymed. She bit her tongue for it. He’s probably going to laugh at her for it. She stuck her hand out for him to shake it since it was free of champagne.

“I’m Ben,” he said, turning back to look at her painting and thankfully ignoring Rey’s accidental couplet.

She studied him from the corner of her eye for a moment while he gazed at the painting. She was right. His dark almost black eyebrows were furrowed at the center and his eyes were narrowed and almost shut. He looked like he was in deep thought. She wanted to know what he thought about it.

“Interesting piece isn’t it,”

“You could say that,” he said, dragging out the syllables. She didn’t like the tone of that.

“The color really makes the piece stand out among the rest in the gallery. It’s filled with a sort of chaotic energy that draws you to it,” she says looking at him. He doesn’t look at her. Eyes still on her paint strokes and splashes on the canvas.

“I don’t think it’s worth that price. A kindergartener could’ve painted that. The artist just threw the paint at it. If you can even call whoever made it an artist.” Rey really didn’t like the tone of that. But she’s been in this world long enough to know not to argue with men who think they know better than her when it comes to her works. She decides to play along.

“I agree. It’s a completely ridiculous price.”

“I could go on a vacation for that price not buy a piece of work that looks like my niece made it. That I could get for free.”

“What do you think about the artist?”

“I don’t think the artist did very well in art school, if I’m being honest.”

“But money wise, doesn’t some of the cost of the painting go towards the artist?”

He took a long sip of his champagne basically taking it all in in one gulp and she watched his Adam’s apple in his throat. He looked at the now empty glass in his hands and handed it back to Rey. She takes it and looks at him with her mouth wide ready to speak but he starts before she does.

“If the artist wanted to make money, she wouldn’t have decided to become an artist. That’s not how you make money.” He had a smirk on his face and was looking right at Rey now. Her blood was boiling but she made herself stay calm on the outside. She made sure she kept her eyes locked onto his. He thought he was being cute, smart, funny.

“We artists actually do make money when people appreciate the work for what it is rather than judge it and say how it looks like a kindergartener did it,” she hands him back his empty glass and his smirk drops, “And while you’re looking at the outlandish price, why don’t you take a look at the name of the artist.”

She walks away without seeing his reaction to realizing its her work and how he just insulted her. She doesn’t really know where she’s walking, she just walks towards the back of the gallery, near the open bar, near the bathrooms. Away from people.

She hates coming to these events for that reason. She hates hearing rich people bash her work who didn’t go to art school. People who don’t understand it or take the time to. She thought he was different. She thought he was admiring her work to begin with but he turned out like the rest of them. Pompous.

Nursing her now warm glass of champagne with her back to the rest of the gallery, Rey feels a cold hand on her bare shoulder and turns immediately into a defensive stance to find Ben glaring at her with wide eyes. He throws his hands up to surrender and her eyes are already digging into him. She starts to walk away but he grabs her hand.

“Rey, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was your piece. I wouldn’t have said that if I knew it was yours.”

This makes her laugh in his face, throwing her head back. “So, you’re telling me, if you knew it was mine you would’ve been nice about it? Or that you only feel bad because it’s mine?” She didn’t want to stick around for the answer but he ran in front of her, blocking her path so she had to look at him.

“No, I shouldn’t have been that rude in general. I’ve just had a bad day. I didn’t want to come here. You are a great artist. I think you might’ve done well in art school. And by the way,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small white slip of paper and hands it to her, “I can’t wait to see it hanging in my living room.”

Instead of taking the paper she takes his hand and shoves him into the storage room right next to them. Throwing him in there and locking the door behind her.

“You bought my painting?”

Before he could answer she lunged herself at him. One of her hands was cupping his face around his sharp jaw and the other was in his hair tangling itself among his dark waves.

Ben didn’t know what to do with his hands at first then they found themselves naturally around her waist and moved to wrap around her back.

He tastes like the champagne she loves so much. The only reason she comes to these events. She can feel the bubbles move from her mouth and her tongue that’s touching him to her head lifting her above them. She didn’t just feel warmth on her cheeks now, she felt warm all over especially where Ben’s hands roamed on her and where his body pressed up against hers. They molded together perfectly like clay.

He groaned into her and she felt him move his hands further down until he grabbed her legs and picked her up, pinning her to the wall of the room.

“You bought my painting,” she said as she broke the kiss smiling at him as she traced her thumb over his plush lips. He looked dazed. He tasted some of the champagne from her too. They were seeing stars.

“I think it’s my new favorite piece.”

She moved out of his hold from her on the wall and moved towards the door much to his dismay. Grabbing his hand before opening the door she said, “Well, I’d like to see where you’re going to hang up my work.”


End file.
